


easy.

by waywardway



Series: the stomach is the way to the heart. [4]
Category: haikyuu
Genre: ASDKLJSDF, Basically this is just, Lots of Angst, M/M, and a dysfunctional roommate friendship, and nervous kags, between two gifted smols, other characters from previous stories from these stories may make an appearance as well !!, smol angry shirabu, that turns into a dysfunctional relationship, that turns into a healthy relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-21 00:01:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21290354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardway/pseuds/waywardway
Summary: in which a gifted shirabu has to find a way to come to terms with an even more gifted kageyama.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Shirabu Kenjirou
Series: the stomach is the way to the heart. [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1496195
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	easy.

**Author's Note:**

> truthfully speaking, i have no reason to be starting a new story when i have so many left to finish, and my only excuse is that i have so many rarepairs that if i don’t manifest some of them into writing my head will explode :] 
> 
> some important information that is a precursor: this story takes place at the cooking academy currently being managed by kuroo's father. it is a post-secondary school program. shirabu is in his second year of a three-year program, while kageyama, kunimi and yamaguchi are first years. 
> 
> also some important information is that this will not be as Soft and Comforting as the other works in these series !! it will explore slightly darker topics. but, as will be the case with any story of mine, it will have a happy ending :]

Shirabu hates his roommate.

It’s the only thing he knows about him, but it’s more than enough, and he really doesn’t want to know anything more.

He would forget the fact that his roommate was a first-year transfer, that despite being a transfer he managed to rank within the top twenty after the first month, that despite having been at the school for just a month he had exceeded obstacles that Shirabu was only just surpassing, that despite Shirabu being older and having more experience this kid was slowly creeping up on him and threatening to dismantle _years_ of hard work and dedication. He was going to forget all of it.

***

His roommate hates him.

He can tell.

Kageyama didn’t have a personable personality, but there was no way he could have done something yet to warrant such unmediated hatred. Not on the first night.

He’s put in an even more awkward situation because he knows that his roommate is a year older than him. He’s rooming at one of the more posh residences on campus, reserved for those that ranked within the first hundred (based on the entrance exam scores, and for those who weren’t new, on the annual culminative exam scores) at the school, which apparently was a bigger deal to others than it had initially been for him. Kunimi and Yamaguchi, two other students he met during orientation, explained the entire ranking system to him. Apparently, it was some enormous badge of honour, but Kageyama didn’t see why students needed to be ranked and pitted against each other when they were all there for the same purpose: to cook. He was the only first-year living in that residence.

His roommate won’t even look at him, let alone speak to him. The only way he knows his name is because it was given to him on one of the many papers stuffed into a fancy-looking folder and mailed to his house before his formal arrival. If he was more like Hinata, he would be bold and audacious and try to break the ice. Or, at least, try and figure out what he had done for a complete stranger to radiate disdain whenever Kageyama was within a mile radius of him. But Kageyama wasn’t like Hinata. His roommate didn’t speak to him, so he couldn’t bring himself to speak to him, either. His roommate didn’t look at him, so he couldn’t bring himself to look at him, either. His roommate didn’t acknowledge his existence, so Kageyama went out of his way to make sure that he _wasn’t_ in his way.

A full month went by before Shirabu spoke to him. It happened so suddenly that at first, Kageyama didn’t know that he was the one being spoken to. He had just gotten used to silence, that silence became the norm. He was scribbling away at his chemistry homework when his door is banged. The lead from his pencil breaks and flies to the side, bewildered eyes looking up towards his door to see an irritated Shirabu, slipper in hand.

“Are you deaf? I asked you if you’re busy.”

“N-No. No, I’m not busy. I was just fi—”

“Then come here for a second.”

For a split second he thinks _Oh God, he’s going to kill me_ _with that slipper_. But then he figures that that wouldn’t be too bad, because then at least he would have a chance of having a new, other roommate in the afterlife. So, careful footsteps follow him out to the common room. On the table, otherwise empty, was a series of ten, small and opaque bottles. They weren’t labelled.

“Sit.”

_Oh God, he’s going to kill me with poison like it’s Russian Roulette. _

His palms are sweaty, eyes nervously darting across all the bottles as his awkwardly towering frame sits on the uncomfortable dining chair that he hadn’t sat on one since moving in. “Shirabu-san, what’s going on?”

Shirabu takes a seat opposite of him, staring him dead in the eye in a way that makes Kageyama break eye contact first. “I’ve mixed different ingredients in these bottles. See if you can guess what they are.”

Kageyama is confused. The first thing his roommate says to him, and it’s because he wants to play a game?

Of course, unbeknownst to Kageyama, Shirabu had his own agenda. After the naturally gifted genius arrived as his new roommate, he took the liberty of asking around and gathering some intel. Much to his dismay, Kageyama apparently had the much-revered God tongue. A total of three students out of the hundreds at the academy possessed it: the ability to deduce, down to the chemical breakdowns, of every ingredient that made up a dish.

The odds that his new roommate possessed such a gift seemed too radical to be true. So, he had to test it. The guy was stiff, nervous, and tense. He had none of the qualities a promising chef should have. If he at least didn’t actually possess the God tongue Shirabu might feel a little better about him.

That thought process didn’t last long.

“Dill, green chard, parsnip roots, dried parsley.”

“Naval oranges, cotton candy grapes, carrot stems.”

“Cumin, English cucumber, jicama root.”

One after the other, Kageyama accurately listed everything that made up the blended concoctions. Some of them he didn’t even need to taste, just a whiff had been enough. Shirabu was stunned. He was so astounded that he couldn’t even formulate a snarky remark after Kageyama had finished.

Kageyama Tobio was going to surpass him. And there was nothing he could do to stop him.


End file.
